


Tower of Strength

by a_lanart



Series: The O'Niall Chronicles [5]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Angst, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-24
Updated: 2009-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:47:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_lanart/pseuds/a_lanart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richie Ryan is back in Seacouver after the events in 'Testimony', where he meets an *old* friend...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tower of Strength

Title: Tower of Strength  
Author: Aeron Lanart  
Rating: PG-15 (UK) For language and subject matter that some may find disturbing.   
Warnings: This is angsty and emotional; don't like that, don't read this.  
Spoilers: Season 3 Highlander.  
Disclaimer: Davis/Panzer productions own the Highlander universe   
Concepts and characters used without permission.  
Original characters and ideas are mine, so is the story.  
No profit is being made off this by anyone, especially me!  
Title courtesy of the Mission, from the song of the same name, as is the verse at the beginning.

 

~*~

You rescue me.   
You are my faith,   
my hope,  
my liberty.  
When there's darkness all around  
You shine bright for me,  
You are the guiding light for me.  
You are a tower of strength to me.

~*~

 

Richie wandered into Joe's with a sigh of contentment. It was good to be back. Much as he liked Paris; Seacouver in general and Joe's in particular were what he regarded as home. He grinned at Joe from the door, meeting the eyes that had been raised to see who had entered.

"I just couldn't keep away, Joe." Joe's answering smile was easy, familiar, as he fished out a bottle and two glasses from under the bar.

"Hell of a way to show your appreciation, I bet MacLeod was really pleased with you. Have you always had such a flair for the dramatic, Richie?" He shoved one of the glasses toward Richie as he approached the bar. "Welcome home."

"Thanks. So how much do you know about what happened?" He knocked the drink back, poured another, settling down onto one of the stools at the bar. He let his eyes drift around the room, at this hour it was almost deserted but the atmosphere of the place still hit him in the gut, something he had not realised how much he had missed until he was back within its familiar grasp. He looked up to find Joe regarding him with an indulgent smile. "Hey, I missed the place, that's all. There's nowhere else quite like this. It's home."

"Glad to know I'm worth something. As to what happened, yeah, I know. Did you have to pick somewhere so *public* to die?"

"Come on, it wasn't intentional. And anyway, that wasn't the worst of it. I got someone else killed." Richie knocked back his second drink, unable to face Joe for a minute.

"I heard."

"Thought you would." Richie stared at his glass again and sighed, and then he looked at the older man with a wry smile. "Have you any idea how difficult it is to get across Paris dressed in a sheet?"

"A sheet? I've got to hear this..." Before long the two friends were gasping and spluttering with laughter as Richie retold the story of his journey across Paris. The few patrons quite cheerfully ignored them and the other member of staff just looked on with an exasperated smile.

 

Joe was wiping his eyes when he saw a familiar expression cross Richie's face. He watched the young man settle his jacket more easily around him.

"You are not fighting anyone near here."

"I hope it won't be necessary, Joe. Anyone in town that I should know about?"

Joe frowned at him, but before he could answer the door swung open to admit a lone figure who approached the bar slowly. It was a fairly tall woman with dark, waist-length, almost curly hair. Her eyes were flicking around the room warily until they alighted on the two figures at the bar and a bright smile spread across her face.

With a jolt, Richie realised he knew her.

 

"Siannon!"

"Hi Richie. You've done some growing up I see." She shrugged out of her coat and eased down onto the stool beside him, meeting his eyes with a piercing green stare.

"Yeah, well, it was kind of unavoidable." Joe coughed discretely. "Oh yeah, sorry. Siannon, this is Joe Dawson, the owner of this place and a very good friend of Mac and me. Joe, this is Siannon O'Niall, we met in Paris a few years back." She grinned at Joe, offering him a long fingered hand across the bar.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr Dawson." There was a faint burr to her voice, the merest hint of an Irish accent. Joe smiled back and took the proffered hand.

"The pleasure's all mine; and please, call me Joe. Now what can I get you to drink?"

"I don't suppose you've got any Guinness have you, Joe?"

"Only the bottled stuff, I'm afraid."

"Hey, that's better than nothing, believe me." Siannon watched as Joe selected a bottle from the fridge, pouring it out for her. "Thanks." She saluted him with the glass before taking a long pull at her drink. "That goes down a treat." She decided she liked Joe, his bearded face was kind and open, with lines in all the right places. Turning her attention to the more familiar figure beside her, she regarded Richie steadily for a while, taking in the changes the last couple of years had made to him.

"So Richie, how's it going? Where's Duncan hiding out?" He flashed a grin at her, running a hand through his unruly hair.

"Not bad, actually. Mac's still in Paris, I had to come back. I had a little...uh... accident not long ago, came off my bike." Siannon raised an eyebrow.

"So?"

"It was in a race, in front of about a thousand people."

"Oops. I take it you 'died'."

"Yeah, but that wasn't the first time."

"Oh. What about Tessa, is she still on the scene?" All the colour drained out of Richie's face as he mentally reeled from the unexpected blow to his emotions. Siannon watched his reaction with concern. "What have I said?" She reached out to touch Richie's hand. He turned to look at her, his blue eyes glistening faintly with unshed tears.

"Didn't Mac tell you? Tessa's dead."

"Oh Richie, I'm so sorry. How did it happen?" He glanced away from her, concentrating on the bar in front of him in an effort to control his overwhelming urge to cry. He couldn't believe it still hit him like this, not after so long. He spoke quietly, almost to himself.

"We were shot. It was stupid. Senseless. When I woke up and she didn't... God, I wanted to die all over again. Nothing has ever felt like that. I still miss her, even though it's been nearly two years. So does Mac. I think we always will." She patted his hand gently.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you did. From the short time I knew her, she seemed to be a really special person. I'm sorry if I upset you, I didn't mean to drag up old pain."

"That's okay. It doesn't hurt as much to talk about her as it used to. I think you just surprised me, I wasn't prepared for it." He changed the subject deliberately; he didn't like having his feelings on show. "So, tell me what you've been getting up to." She smiled wryly at him, recognising the defence mechanism for what it was, but answered his question nonetheless.

"Travelling. Well, busking actually. Europe mostly, but we've been on this side of the pond for almost three months. It's been great. I think we must have played in most of the major cities in Europe and for the last three weeks or so we've been with a band, though that finished when we came up here."

"Sounds fun. Who's we, by the way?"

"Me and Laurie. You have met him."

"Laurie, Laurie... You mean that redhead with the amazing voice?"

"Yep."

"You mean you and him are..."

"Together? Yeah." Richie grinned at her, the smile lighting up his face.

"Can't say I'm surprised, I saw the way he looked at you in Paris. I didn't think you'd noticed and I sure as hell wasn't going to say anything in case I'd misread the situation."

"Oh I noticed all right, I just wanted to give him some time and space, see if he really wanted a relationship. Seems he did, we're still together."

"So where is he?"

"Visiting relatives. He's arriving tomorrow."

"I always thought you'd make a good couple, I bet you two must break a few hearts."

"Maybe. You don't seem particularly heart broken though."

"Why should I be? I've got time on my side when it comes to finding someone, haven't I? Which reminds me, does Laurie know about *us*?"

"Yeah, he does. Funny thing though, he almost knew without me telling him. I've never seen anyone so *un*surprised about immortality than Laurie, not in my whole life. It was weird. All he said was 'so that's what's different about you, I knew there was something'. No accusations, no hysterics, no nothing. I think I would have got more reaction if I'd told him I had a pet tarantula." They both laughed at that, meeting each others eyes.

"Now I *really* want to meet him again."

"You'll get your chance, don't worry." They chatted a while longer about music and various other things before saying their goodbyes, promising to meet up again the next day.

 

Richie arrived early the next night, propping the bar up in his accustomed place. Joe was putting glasses away.

"You're early," the older man remarked, not pausing in what he was doing. Richie grinned at him, leaning over to snag a bottle and glass.

"Not by that much. I thought you might want a bit of background information, that's all. I take it you know about Siannon?"

"Siannon Fionuala Aislin O'Niall, born approximately 350 AD in Ireland. Trained as a bard and healer, friend of both MacLeods. Yeah, I looked her up. She gets around; I found references to her all over the place from Iceland down to New Zealand. Even Macleod doesn't seem to have the wanderlust that bad." Joe finished his task and leaned on the bar opposite Richie. "So, what 'background information' do you want to give me?"

"Oh, just a bit about her and Laurie, nothing much, just some stuff I thought it might be useful to know before they arrive."

"Okay, I'm listening. Fire away."

About an hour later Richie felt the buzz of another immortal.

"This should be them now." He straightened from his slouched position by the bar. Joe chuckled, shaking his head and waited for Siannon and Laurie to enter. They came in together, in more ways then one. Siannon grinned at Richie and Joe waiting by the bar and indicated them to her companion, who looked over with a blazing smile as he followed Siannon to the bar. Joe stared pointedly at Richie who was trying to look innocent.

"All right, I believe you, but..." Richie grinned gleefully.

"Just wait. And if they ever sing together, make sure you're sitting down. They're incredible." At that point the couple reached the bar, still smiling broadly. Siannon made the introductions;

"Joe, Richie, this is Laurie McKenna. Laurie, Richie Ryan and Joe Dawson. Joe owns this place, you should remember Richie from Paris a few years back." Laurie shook hands all round, favouring them all with a friendly smile.

"I remember. Us redheads have to stick together." He held on to Richie's hand a little longer than necessary while regarding him thoughtfully. "You're different than you used to be." Richie started at that and flicked a glance at Siannon who shrugged at him.

"Never mind," Laurie continued, "I'm sure it's not important." He released Richie's hand carefully and grinned at Joe. "Nice place you have here."

"Glad you like it. Now, can I get you a drink?"

"I'll have a Guinness, please Joe."

"Coming up. Laurie?"

"Have you got any Talisker?"

"Talisker? You're brave drinking that, not my thing at all. Let me have a look." Joe disappeared further down the bar, poking around amongst the bottles. He emerged holding a bottle. "No Talisker, I'm afraid, but I've got Laphraoig, if that'll do."

"That's fine, thank you. I must admit I didn't expect an American blues bar to have much in the way of choice in single malts, I'm surprised." Joe returned the smile as he poured out a measure of the whisky.

"I've got a Scottish friend to thank for that."

"Duncan MacLeod?"

"The one and only."

 

Soon the four of them were chatting like old friends, laughing and joking as if they'd known each other for ages. When Laurie disappeared off to the bathroom Joe regarded Siannon with a laughing glance.

"Siannon O'Niall, you are a lucky woman." She grinned impishly back at him.

"Now that is an understatement if ever I heard one!"

 

Laurie looked pensive when he came back from the bathroom. Richie and Siannon looked at him with concern.

"Are you okay?" He asked, not wanting to spoil the evening but feeling compelled to discover the problem.

"I'm fine, but I just sussed out what was bothering me before."

"Bothering you?"

"Yeah, when I said you were different than you used to be. You're like Siannon aren't you? Immortal." He then seemed to remember that there was someone else at the bar and his face blanched as he looked at Joe with horror.

"Don't worry Laurie, I know all about Siannon, Richie and Duncan. No, I'm not like them, but I sure as hell would like to know how you knew about Richie."

"I don't really know. Intuition, I guess. He just *felt* different when I touched him, nothing I could put my finger on." He stared into his whisky, missing the questioning glance that Joe threw at Siannon and the shake of her head in response. Joe was perturbed. Here was a person, as human as he was, not a pre-immortal, who could sense the differences between mortal and immortal. Strange. His natural curiosity kicked into overdrive.

"Has this happened before, Laurie?"

"Only when I met Duncan. It just seems to be an instinct. It wasn't until Siannon told me about immortals that I realised what I was feeling. I mean, I knew she was different, but I didn't know how. It was really weird."

"You can say that again." Siannon reached for Laurie's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Don't worry about it love, it's just one of those things." Laurie smiled back gratefully and proceeded to change the subject.

The evening passed enjoyably, with no further revelations. Laurie enjoyed the music, but had to admit to preferring folk, as did Siannon. The great music debate then lasted the rest of the night, Joe eventually throwing them out after they had helped him to clean up once the rest of the customers had left.

 

Siannon, Laurie and Richie became something of a fixture over the next couple of months. So much so that Joe decided to have a folk music night, enlisting the help of some of his friends. Siannon and Laurie did a turn as a duo as well as playing with the main group. The whole evening went down a storm, with many of his customers asking if he was ever going to have another. Not long after, Siannon and Laurie decided it was time to start thinking about moving on. Richie was unhappy about this as he had become very close to them in the time they were in Seacouver. He was not the only one either, as apart from Joe himself they had made quite a few friends from the regulars.

 

The week before they were due to leave they decided to check out a club that they had heard about while hanging out in Joe's. They very nearly did not go as Laurie had been suffering from headaches, but he insisted.

"I've been looking forward to this for days. Damned if I'll let you stop me going just for a poxy headache."

"Okay, okay, we'll go. But you tell me if you want to leave, all right?"

"Course I will. I'm the sensible one, remember?" So they went. It was a decision that Siannon would soon live to regret.

 

The club was dark and smoky, the music throbbing and pulsing in the thick air. They had been dancing, until Laurie started complaining of a headache again. They took themselves into the courtyard at the back, where the music was still loud but the atmosphere was not so oppressive, standing together quietly as the rain cooled them down. Laurie started to look better, colour returning to his pale face. Siannon gathered him into her arms and kissed him tenderly, brushing the fiery hair away from his face.

"You had me worried there for a bit, Acushlah." Amber eyes gazed into green.

"It was only a headache, love, it's going now. Let's go back in." They were dancing again when Laurie suddenly clutched at Siannon in panic and a groan was torn from him.

"Siannon, get me out of here."

"Laurie, Laurie, what's wrong?"

"It's my head. Fucking hell, this is bad." His face had gone waxy. "Siannon. Please." He looked up with stark terror in his beautiful eyes. "Jesus, what's happening to me?" Another groan escaped him and he pulled himself away from Siannon, trying to get out. Siannon watched him stumble away in surprise, when he let out a piercing scream, putting his hands to his head. He hit the floor before anyone could reach him. Siannon flew to his side, checked his breathing and pulse. Nothing.

"Get an ambulance!" She screamed, starting resuscitation. "Laurie, don't do this to me! Come on Laurie, Live, Damn You!" There! Was that a pulse? She felt for the carotid artery in his neck to be rewarded by the feeling of a weak, thready, pulse beneath her fingers. Laurie still wasn't breathing however, so she continued. It seemed an age before the paramedics arrived and took over. Siannon followed, withdrawn and shocked, answering their questions, not able to tear her eyes away from Laurie's still, waxy face. The rest of the journey passed in a daze, she did not even remember getting to the hospital. She was still on her own when the Doctor came in, a very concerned woman.

"I understand you are Laurence McKenna's next of kin, Ms. O'Niall?"

"Yes." Siannon replied dully, there was no feeling left, she felt like her heart had turned to stone. "I'm his partner." Siannon was convinced she was going to lose Laurie, felt it with a grim certainty. "He's going to die, isn't he?"

"Now Ms. O'Niall, we don't know that for certain. Laurence is a very sick man but..." The words 'sub arachnoid haemorrhage' filtered through along with 'intensive care unit' and 'possible brain damage'. Unfortunately Siannon was too distraught and wracked with grief to try to be tactful, even though the doctor was trying her best.

"Goddamn Fucking Shit! What do you think I am huh? Stupid? You think he's brain dead!"

"That is not proven at the moment. . ."

"Don't lie to me!" She screamed. The Doctor came up to her, grabbed her by the shoulders, firm and gentle at the same time.

"Listen to me. It. Is. Not. Proven. Tests cannot be done until the cerebral oedema has reduced, that may be over two days away. There is still a chance, however slim." Siannon looked at her, her eyes full of unshed tears, burning. The doctor pulled her into a hug when she started sobbing and lead her over to a chair

"Is there anyone I can contact for you, to be here with you." Her voice was soft, full of concern. Siannon looked at her and shook her head.

"Later," she croaked. She turned away from the doctor, hugging herself furiously. The doctor sighed. It never got any easier, no matter who was involved. She quietly left the room, careful not to disturb the grieving figure in the chair.

 

Richie groaned as the phone started ringing. He turned over, determined to ignore it, trying to get back to sleep, sure it was a wrong number. The answer phone eventually picked it up. When the person at the other end started to speak he woke up with frightening speed.

"Richie, it's Fiona. At the hospital. I know you're in so just pick up the fucking phone will you, this is important. Richie, hurry up. It's Laurie." He was out of bed in a flash, stumbling to the phone in a haze of worry and concern.

"Fiona, what's happened?"

"Thank God. Richie, you really need to get down here. Laurie collapsed and it looks pretty bad, they don't know if he's going to make it." His heart plummeted as he listened to the words. He had one major concern.

"What about Siannon?"

"After screaming at the doctor, she's apparently said nothing. She needs someone there Richie. I only heard about it by accident and I can't go down, I'm in the middle of my shift. You've got to come."

"Don't worry; I'll be there as soon as I can."

He threw on his clothes in record time, desperate to get to the hospital quickly. The journey there was almost surreal, he could remember virtually nothing about it apart from the rain, the street lights and the little voice inside him that whispered 'hurry, hurry, hurry'. He was sure he must have broken innumerable traffic laws, but what the hell, this was important.

 

He almost overturned his bike in his haste to get inside the building, wrenching his shoulder in the process. Ignoring the pain, he raced up to the reception area. Tearing his helmet off he banged on the desk.

"Could you tell me where to find Siannon O'Niall, she came in with Laurence McKenna?" The receptionist looked primly at him, taking in his dishevelled state.

"Are you a relative?" Richie glared at her, his blue eyes steely with contempt.

"Yes." He replied curtly. He did not feel it was a completely bare faced lie, they were close enough to be family and their shared immortality created a special bond.

"Right then, I'll get someone to show you through." She picked up the phone.

"No need, Tanya, I'll deal with this." Richie turned, he vaguely recognised the doctor who had spoken, and was now approaching him. A colleague of Anne Lindsay's he presumed. She looked tired and drawn, but smiled at him gently.

"I'm Doctor Ellis, I'm very glad you're here. I must admit I've been rather worried about Ms O'Niall. I can't give her any concrete news about her partner and that's not helping matters any." They began to walk through the corridors as she proceeded to tell Richie about Laurie's condition. He became progressively more concerned as the words cut into him like knives.

"He's going to die, isn't he?" He asked, before continuing as the doctor drew breath to reply. "Don't give me any of that 'critical but stable' bullshit, I need to know. Now."

Doctor Ellis glanced at the fierce young man walking down the corridor beside her. He obviously cared a lot for these two people but she wasn't entirely sure where he fit into the equation. The reddish hair suggested he was related to the critically ill young man on the intensive care unit but her intuition said that he was closer to the woman. Both of them shared a feeling of being older than their years, of having a secret to keep. She sensed no ill intent in either of them though, so against her better judgement she answered with complete honesty.

"Probably. We can't really say for certain, but given the extent of the damage, it's highly unlikely that he'll survive." She saw the calm brutality of her words hit him like a ton of bricks, his fair skin losing all of its colour.

"Oh God, Siannon's going to be devastated."

"That's why I'm *really* glad to see you ...erm.. You didn't tell me your name..."

"Richie."

"Richie. Anyway, she desperately needs some support right now." They had reached another featureless door, totally indistinguishable from any of the others. Doctor Ellis opened it to reveal a small grey room with a few seats scattered around. Slumped in a chair, with her back facing them, was a figure sunk in such abject misery that it tore into Richie's soul. Siannon was staring at the featureless wall, rocking slightly, hugging herself tightly as slow tears wound their way down her face. He went to crouch in front of her but she did not acknowledge his presence.

Carefully he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, resting his cheek against her hair.

"Shh Siannon, I'm here for you now." Richie met the concerned eyes of Doctor Ellis over Siannon's head. She swallowed once, and nodded, before turning on her heel and leaving them alone together with their sorrow and fear.

"R-r-richie?" Siannon clung onto him with the desperation born of grief.

"That's me. I'm here."

"H-how?"

"Doesn't matter. Now what happened?" She began to tell him, in a voice so completely devoid of feeling it was unnerving.

 

After an hour or so, three cups of coffee and a wash, Siannon began to feel more able to deal with the situation.

"I think I ought to go up and see him."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No I'm not sure, but I don't think I can accept it if I don't see him. You've no idea how it felt. One minute he was there, beautiful, vibrant, and alive. The next thing I'm doing CPR on him, hoping to at least give him a chance to fight for his life. No-one should have to go through that. No-one!" She exploded out of her chair and began to pace. "How many times do we fall in love, only to have it snatched away? I knew I was going to lose him as soon as I fell in love with him, but not so soon, not like this. Fucking hell, we hadn't even had three years together!" The anger seemed to die out of her in a rush as she came to a stop in front of him. "Oh Richie, what am I going to do?" She let herself be gathered in another hug, taking comfort in the warm strength of his arms.

"I've no idea what you're going to do, but I'll be there for you while you do it. If that involves going up to see him, then I'll go with you. If you want to go home, then I'll take you. I'm not leaving you alone with all this going on; you've got to have someone to lean on. I tried to be there for Mac when we lost Tessa, even though I felt as guilty as hell for surviving, and I want to be here for you, no matter what happens."

"Thanks. I think I'd like to see him now."

 

Of course she wished she had decided not to see Laurie when they were allowed in. He had been in surgery, and was almost unrecognisable. The vivacious man who had been so full of life and love lay still and grey in the stark confines of the hospital bed, his head swathed in bandages, hiding what was left of the fire gold hair. He was surrounded by machines, breathing for him, monitoring him, keeping his body alive. Siannon took one look at the near lifeless figure in the bed and knew with a certainty beyond reason that Laurie had already gone. This would be goodbye. She fought her way through the endless tangle of tubes to stand beside the bed. She reached down to touch Laurie's face, to kiss him one last time. Siannon had to kiss him on the cheek as the tube that he was ventilated through was in his mouth, the tapes holding it in position distorting his lips. She choked back more tears.

"Goodbye Laurie. I love you. I just wish we'd had more time." Stepping away from the bed, she turned toward Richie. "Get me out of here," she said. He needed no further urging and threw an arm around her shoulder as he guided her out of the room with as much haste as he could muster.

 

Richie kept on casting worried glances at his heartbroken friend as he walked her out of the intensive care unit. He could feel the trembling in her body where it was pressed against him and tightened his arm around her, trying to offer some comfort and strength. In a way he was glad he had Siannon's grief on which to focus as it prevented him from dwelling on the all too painful memories of Tessa's loss and the feelings of inadequacy and guilt that he'd had at the time and were now threatening to resurface. They had reached the echoing silence of the deserted corridor with no interruptions when Siannon's control finally broke again and all he could do was hold her as the terrible, racking sobs tore through her body, right into his heart, wounding him with their pain. He found himself wondering what it must be like to be on the receiving end of a love like Siannon had so obviously had for Laurie and whether it would be worth all the pain.

 

At last the storm of weeping was over. Siannon still clung desperately onto Richie, her head buried in his damp shoulder. Slowly she began to calm, allowing herself to relax into his warm embrace as he gently began to stroke her hair. She had no idea what she would have done if he had not been there, an island of peace in the turbulent stream of her emotions, a haven, someone to hold onto. She could so easily lose herself in grief, it had nearly killed her before now, and only the presence of a friend, then as now, had stopped her going off the rails. While she was aware that physically Laurie would be alive until life support was terminated, Siannon knew in her heart of hearts that he had left this life and that they would not see each other again, not as Siannon and Laurie anyway, and maybe not ever. Although Siannon believed that mortal souls lived again and again in their own sort of immortality, she knew the chances of meeting someone in another lifetime, and recognising them, were remote. In all her years on earth it had only happened once. Drawing a shaky breath, she finally raised her head to look at Richie, seeing only compassion and concern in his blue eyes. She scrubbed the tears away from her face, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her jacket. He regarded her with such an intense expression she was momentarily taken aback until she realised what it was. Love. The love of true friendship and a recognition of her feelings, the sharing of her pain. It touched her in a way that she did not expect.

"Let me take you home, there's no point in staying now." He spoke softly, not wanting to intrude too much on her thoughts.

"No. Richie, I can't go back there tonight, not with all his stuff still lying around. I'd lose it completely, I know I would." He hugged her tightly.

"Then come home with me. Stay as long as you need to. If needs be, I'm sure Mac wouldn't mind you staying in the loft until you got yourself sorted."

"Thanks. I think I'd rather stay with you than be on my own, I'm going to have bad dreams tonight, if I get to sleep at all."

"My place is yours. Do you want to pick up any stuff?"

"Not if you don't mind lending me a T-shirt to sleep in." He let her go and gave her a sad, gentle smile.

"I think I can manage that. Do you think you'll be okay on the back of the bike?"

"I'll be fine."

"Let's go then."

 

Richie found the ride back to his place a lot less fraught than his outward journey. He was hyper aware of Siannon pressed up against his back, her arms round his waist. It felt like she was trying to maintain a connection between them, a connection to life, to hope, and it was one he was determined to provide, any way he could. He ensconced her on the couch, while he made hot drinks for them both, before taking a seat next to her.

"You can have the bed, I'm used to crashing on the couch. I'll sort out something for you to sleep in, in a minute."

"Thanks." She looked at him over the rim of her mug with red rimmed eyes, her face slightly obscured by steam as she blew on the coffee to cool it down a little. "I really appreciate this; I honestly don't know what I'd do otherwise."

"So you said. But hey, that's what friends are for and over the last few months you've become one of the best friends I've ever had. I just wish Laurie could share it with us."

"So do I. Oh Blessed Danu, how I wish he could." She gave a sniff, and rubbed her nose again, before finishing her drink. "I think I'd like to go to bed now, if you don't mind."

"No problem. Just give me a minute." Richie disappeared into his bedroom, clattering around as he grabbed blankets for the couch and a T-shirt for Siannon. He emerged with his arms full and dumped the blankets, passing the T-shirt over. "I hope this will do." She shook it out; it was big enough to be comfortable and was emblazoned with the word 'Joe's' in pink.

"This'll be fine. I just hope Joe knows you're giving his T-shirts away."

"Oh he knows, I've got three of them. The bathroom's through there." He indicated the relevant door. By the time Siannon had finished in the bathroom, Richie had set up his nest on the couch and was dumping the mugs in the sink. He turned to face her, noticing how big her eyes looked in her pale face. "If you want, leave the door open. I'm more likely to hear if you're having a bad dream then and I'll wake you up - if you think I should, that is."

"Please." He stepped forward to give her another quick hug before releasing her and giving her a gentle push in the direction of the bedroom.

"Try and get some sleep, Siannon. We'll ring the hospital in the morning to see if there's any change." He watched as she stumbled into the bedroom, fatigue and sorrow written into every line of her body. Life was completely unfair, it had been when Tessa died and it still was now. He sighed, before settling himself into his makeshift bed.

 

Richie was woken by a blood curdling scream. It seemed Siannon was only too correct in her assumption that she would have bad dreams that night. The first scream was followed by another. Richie hit the floor, hard, in his struggle to get out of the blankets and into the bedroom. By the time he managed to get in there, the screams had stopped, instead she was shouting.

"I can't let you do this!" Immediately he touched her, she shot bolt upright, yelling, "No!!"

"Siannon, it's me. Richie." Sense quickly returned to her dream fogged eyes, and with it the memories came rushing back.

"Oh God." The tears came then, quiet sobs that nevertheless tore at his heart as much as the violent storm of weeping earlier on had done. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his arms. She accepted the comfort, unresisting. She fell asleep like   
that, sheltered in his embrace. Not wanting to wake her, he stayed, trying to hold her dreams at bay with his arms wrapped round her.

 

It must have worked, as the next thing either of them knew was the sun shining through the window. Siannon wiggled out of Richie's loose hug and sat up, regarding Richie with the ghost of a twinkle visible in her green eyes.

"Having you sleep with me wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but I'm not complaining. Thanks, Richie." He grinned back at her.

"Anytime."

"Hey, I might just take you up on that."

"I'll look forward to it." He swung himself off the bed, heading out of the door. "Now what do you want for breakfast?"

"Breakfast?"

"Yeah. You've got to eat sometime."

"Um. Just toast, please. And coffee."

 

After surprising herself by eating much more than she thought she wanted, Siannon indicated the phone.

"Do you mind if I..?" Richie looked up and shook his head.

"Course I don't. Help yourself." He then made himself scarce by taking the blankets back into the bedroom. When he went back in to the main room, Siannon had finished on the phone. She looked a bit white and shaky, but not as devastated as the night before.

"Well?"

"There's no change. I spoke to Dr. Ellis, she said the oedema's down but it doesn't look very hopeful."

"What are you going to do?"

"I asked her to do the brain death tests. Laurie felt very strongly about organ donation, it only seems fair that I follow his wishes."

"Won't you have to go back to the hospital to sign the release forms and stuff?"

"Not 'til tomorrow. Dr. Ellis said she'd ring here tomorrow morning and let me know the results. Then I'll have to go to the hospital."

"I'm going with you." Siannon did not even try to protest, she recognised the determination on Richie's face. He had made up his mind and that was final. Instead she gave him a small smile.

"Thanks. I'd appreciate that." In companionable silence they cleared away the breakfast dishes and did the washing up.

"Richie?" He was sorting through his mail when Siannon's gentle query broke into his thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Would you take me back to our place today? I want to sort the stuff out."

"Are you sure about this?"

"I'm sure, as long as you stay."

"No problem."

 

Siannon stopped outside the apartment door, lost in the memories of the countless times that something as simple as searching for the keys had romantic overtones, memories of Laurie's teasing, laughing comments as Siannon riffled through her bag and the not so teasing kisses that had followed the opening of the door. Never again. She shivered. Instantly she was aware of Richie's strong, supporting arm.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" She turned to face that piercing   
blue gaze with a haunted expression.

"I'm not sure. My mind is screaming at me to get all this sorted out as quickly as possible so I can mourn Laurie in my own time and my own way without the technicalities of everyday life interfering. I may have done this before but it never gets easier, no matter how many times I go through it. I tell myself that loving a mortal is never worth the pain of losing them and I prove myself wrong time and time again. Even so, Laurie was special. I've never loved anyone like that before. Ah well. Let's get this over with." She turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door.

 

The apartment was spartan and pleasantly untidy. There was not much in the way of personal items to make it a home rather than a place to stay, but then Siannon and Laurie had not intended to be in Seacouver that long. Richie watched Siannon moving round the apartment, packing things up, tidying things away. He felt vaguely uncomfortable, like he was intruding on what should be extremely private moments. He also found it more than a little gruesome, after all Laurie was still, at least officially, alive. When Siannon quizzed him on the reason for his silence he said as much, before realising it probably was not the most tactful thing to say. She sat back on her heels and looked up at him from her position on the floor, regarding him with sad, green eyes.

"Laurie's gone, Richie. That..that.. *body* in the bed at the hospital isn't him, no matter how long they keep it breathing with machines. He loved life, but he sure as hell wouldn't cling to it just for the sake of it, he knew there would come a time when he had to leave me, and so did I. We just thought we'd have longer together before that happened. I don't know how I'm going to   
get through the next few weeks once it sinks in, which is why I'm doing this now. In a few days I know I won't be capable of doing anything. This is sort of the calm before the storm." She eased up off the floor and sat next to Richie on the couch. "Are you willing to cope with a half mad immortal in your life?"

"You're my *friend*, Siannon, whether you're half mad or not. Though I can't see you being half mad. At the moment, you seem so..."

"Controlled?"

"Yeah."

"It won't last."

"So? When I said I'd be there for you, I meant every bloody word. Now, do you want any help with this?"

 

After a couple of hours the place looked almost sterile. Bags were packed and beside the door, Siannon's guitar and bodhran were in their cases, waiting.

"I'll be okay, Richie, honestly. I'm just going to drop the stuff I don't want to keep somewhere were I know it'll be appreciated. I'll bring the car round to yours when I've finished. Just be in, okay?" Richie smiled and squeezed her arm.

"I won't go anywhere. The dojo's closed until further notice, so there's nowhere I need to be. Be careful." He hefted his helmet in one hand, walking backwards out the door. "Don't forget, now. You're staying with me for as long as you need. I'll see you later." He turned, and strode off down the hallway, his hair glinting more red than usual in the dusty sunlight. Red hair maybe, but not as   
red or as fiery as... Siannon quashed the thought. She had things to do.

 

She glanced around the empty apartment; there were some good memories here, but those she would carry round with her for the rest of her life, one advantage of a trained, immortal memory. She picked up the first of the bags and made her way out. Once everything was stashed in the car she took both sets of keys back to the office. Surprisingly enough there was someone in.

"Max?" A grizzled head popped up from behind a filing cabinet.

"Yeah, who is it?"

"Siannon. I'm moving out. The rent's paid up 'til the end of the month. I've got the keys here." She put them down on the desk while Max scrambled up, dusting his hands off on his jeans.

"I thought you and Laurie were staying for another two weeks."

"Change of plan. Please don't ask why, Max." He regarded her through his wire framed spectacles, apparently not liking what he saw.

"Okay, I won't ask. You don't look so good, girl."

"Yeah, I know. Look Max, if there're any problems with the apartment you can contact me on this number." She scribbled Richie's phone number on a pad. "I'm staying with a friend."

"The young man with the bike?"

"That's him."

"He's worried about you, you know. I could see it."

"I know. Sometimes you see just too much." She stuck out her hand, to shake Max's. He took it somewhat gingerly. "Look after yourself Max, I'm really glad I met you."

"Same here, Siannon. Well, I suppose this is goodbye then."

"Yes."

"Take care."

"You too." She broke their handshake and left the office without a backward glance. Max shook his head and looked thoughtfully at the black, scruffy looking dog at his feet.

"That is not a happy woman, Cassie, not at all." Cassie just wagged her tail and slobbered on his foot, while gazing up at him with adoring, liquid eyes. "Stupid mutt." He said, fondly.

 

Siannon managed to avoid awkward questions from people by the simple expediency of leaving the bag in a deserted office, with a note, but no contact number. She knew the owner of the office would be back shortly and made good her escape, sound in the knowledge that all the items would be distributed fairly. Back in the car, she sat for long moments just trembling, the reality of the situation at last   
starting to seep in, after being pushed back all day. She let the tears fall as she clung on to the steering wheel, wiping them angrily from her face. She remembered nothing of her journey back to Richie's place, unsure whether that was a good or a bad thing.

 

Richie took one look at her face and grabbed his jacket.

"You need a drink. Come on, we're going out."

"But..."

"Don't argue. Leave that." He indicated the bags, "You can sort it out some other time. Right now you look as though you could do with not feeling for a bit, I know I could. We'll probably regret it tomorrow, but who cares." He dragged her out of the door and down the stairs before she even thought of protesting again.

 

They ended up in Joe's. Richie put his bike at the back, he knew he would not be in any fit state to be riding home that night. The place seemed quiet, almost subdued, reflecting their mood only too well. They made their way to the bar where Joe was waiting.

"Siannon. Richie." He put a bottle and two glasses on the bar. "It's on the house." Siannon looked up at him, into that kind and understanding face.

"Joe, I..." She shook her head, unable to express herself. He reached out to clasp her hand where it lay on the bar.

"Believe me, I know." With that he withdrew, leaving them alone. Richie snagged the bottle and glasses, leading Siannon to a table in one of the darker corners.

"Time for some serious drinking." She started to relax after the fourth or fifth shot and Richie felt brave, or perhaps foolhardy enough to start on the second phase of his campaign. "You never actually told me how you and Laurie met, you know." He said, while pouring himself another drink.

"You're right, I didn't. Predictably enough, it was through our music..." Siannon began to tell the story and her eyes were soon bright with remembrance; Richie was laughing helplessly.

"I can't believe he said that. Hell, I can't believe *you* said that."

"I wouldn't have, but I turned round to find him staring right into my eyes. He just gave me this *look* and I thought 'What the Hell' and opened my mouth. It was so funny. We both nearly got thrown out. After that we never looked back, we were inseparable, the best of friends and it stayed like that for a while."

"So when did you first realise you were in love with him, rather than just friends?"

"You'll laugh."

"No I won't."

"It's dead corny."

"So what. Tell me." Siannon stared dreamily into her drink, before giving Richie a lop-sided smile.

"It was the first time I heard him sing. His voice hit me in the gut like I'd been stabbed. Cupid and his frigging arrows had nothing on it. From that moment I knew. That was just before we came to Paris for that exhibition."

"And the rest, as they say, was history."

"Yeah." She tossed her drink back, poured another. The bottle by this time was almost three quarters empty, and she had drunk most of it herself. Richie had managed enough to be pleasantly inebriated, but Siannon was well on the way to being totally smashed out of her brains. She looked at the bottle with a slightly befuddled expression on her face. "Have I drunk all that crap on my own?"

"Most of it, yeah."

"Shit." She grinned at Richie. "You're bad for me, Richard Ryan. I am going to have one god-awful fucking shitty hangover in the morning. Laurie'd fucking kill himself laughing." Her face fell slightly at the thought of her lover, but the smile stayed in her eyes. "Thanks Richie. I needed this. Your methods may be a little un.... un.... oh what the fuck... different, but at least you got me   
remembering the good times." Richie smiled back at her.

"Good... Siannon?"

"What?"

"I haven't heard you swear so much since I first met you."

Siannon giggled.

"Your fault. You got me pissed as a fart, I always frigging swear when I'm drunk." With that she put her head down on the table and howled. He looked at her with concern, there was a slightly hysterical edge to her laughter.

"I'm going to call a cab, I think we should go." He said. She opened one eye.

"You might be right. I'm staying here until it arrives." She leaned her forehead on her arms and shut both eyes again.

"You do that." Richie wandered over to the bar, a little unsteady on his feet, but nowhere near as bad as he could have been. "Joe?" Joe heard the voice and turned round.

"Richie?"

"Any chance of calling a cab for me and Siannon? We need to go." Joe gave him the once over and then glanced over at Siannon, still sprawled on the table.

"You know, I think you're right. Sure, I'll call you a cab. Just do me one favour Richie."

"What's that?"

"Don't break your own heart while trying to keep hers together."

"I won't."

"Look, Richie. I know you. I mean every word."

"So do I. This may sound a little way out coming from me, but there's nothing there. Sure, I love her, but then I love Mac and you, too." Joe shook his head slightly after looking quizzically at Richie for a second.

"Now I know you're drunk. I'll get that cab. Take care of her Richie, but don't forget yourself while your doing it." Joe limped off to use the phone, Richie made his way back to his table and Siannon, shaking his head in disbelief at what he just said.

"You are not going to believe what I just said." He announced to the back of her head. She pushed herself up from the table and looked at him.

"Well?"

"I just told Joe I loved him."

"You never?"

"I did."

"Dagda's Balls! I think we better get out of here."

"My thoughts exactly. We'll wait outside for the cab." He gave her a helping hand to stand up, before wrapping an arm round her shoulders. He felt one of her arms snake around his waist and they weaved their way to the door, waving to Joe and a couple of others on the way out.

 

The cab journey was mercifully short, depositing them on the rain slick street outside of Richie's apartment block. They staggered up the stairs, providing mutual support, still giggling like children. Siannon managed to calm down after two cups of coffee and a pint of water. She smiled warmly at Richie from her position on the couch.

"Thanks for tonight, it was just what I needed. Sometimes I think you've got to be older than you really are, you're just too perceptive for your own good." He perched beside her, throwing an arm round her to give her a hug.

"I needed it too. Now all we've got to do is face tomorrow." She leaned into the hug, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I'm really not looking forward to that. At least I've got you to lean on." A yawn escaped her control, Richie noticed and pushed her up out of her seat.

"You need to go to bed. Go on. I'll be through in a minute to get the stuff for the couch."

 

Siannon was perched on the bed, wearing a pair of red tartan pyjamas, when he finally made it into the bedroom. She watched him thoughtfully as he gathered together the necessities for the night, wondering whether she should say what was on her mind. By the time he went over to give her a goodnight hug she had made up her mind. He had dumped his blankets on the bed, before enveloping her in his embrace. She returned the hug with affection, feeling warm and safe in his arms.

"Goodnight Siannon." He said quietly. He didn't immediately let go as she was still clinging onto him.

"Richie?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Don't go."

"What?!"

"Don't go. Stay with me, please. I couldn't stand another dream like last night and I know if you're here I'm much less likely to have one." Richie took her by the shoulders and held her away from him, staring incredulously at her.

"You're asking me to *sleep* with you?." She ducked her head, hiding the slight twitch of her lips at his discomfort.

"Yes. And before you say anything, it's not because I'm still drunk. I mean it, seriously. I need you, Richie." She looked back up at him, meeting his eyes, her expression now completely sober.

"Well..ah.. that is.." He was gazing into her eyes, saying without words what he could not manage to elucidate. His concern for her, Joe's concern for him, his own sense of loss and need for comfort.

"Please Richie. I'm scared." She answered, her voice shaking slightly, eyes downcast. She felt vulnerable, exposed and intense need of the physical closeness of another human being. She could only hope that Richie would understand. He gathered her back into his arms.

"If this is what you really want, then I will. God only knows how much I wished I'd had someone to hold when Tessa died, but I didn't think Mac would have appreciated it."

"Then you *do* understand."

"Oh yeah, I understand all right. Only too well." He broke their embrace again. "Just give me a minute, I'll be right back." With that he stood up, picked up the blankets off the bed and threw them into the corner before rummaging round in his chest of drawers. He grabbed a pair of pyjama bottoms, disappearing into the bathroom to get changed.

Richie tried to analyse his feelings as he slipped into bed beside Siannon, and came to the conclusion that what he had said to both her and Joe was true. All he did want was comfort, to give and to receive. For once in his life his hormones were taking a very definite second place. In a few weeks or months he could well feel different, but right now all he wanted was what she had offered. Closeness. They settled into each other's arms with none of the awkwardness that could have been there and slowly drifted toward sleep.

 

Siannon woke first, spooned up comfortably against Richie's back. She shifted. Bad move. Her head ached and her mouth tasted foul. Suppressing a groan, she eased away from Richie and scrambled out of bed to make her way to the bathroom. She emerged a while later, with her wet hair wrapped in a towel, to be greeted by the smell of fresh coffee. Her stomach growled. Richie turned round to smile   
at her. With satisfaction she noticed that he didn't look all that much better than she had when she got up.

"Morning Siannon, how're you doin'?"

"Well my head has stopped feeling as if the entire London Philharmonic Orchestra's percussion section has taken residence, but my mouth still feels like the bottom of a hamster's cage. Give me some coffee, please." He passed over a steaming mug and she inhaled appreciatively. "Mm, that's wonderful. You've got the job, Richie." He grinned, disappearing into the bathroom, to leave her alone with the quickly fading remnants of her hangover. She sighed, remembering the reason for why she felt like this in the first place, and sat down on the couch, waiting for the phone call that would break her heart.

 

When the phone finally rang, Richie came over to perch beside her on the arm of the couch. Siannon fumbled for his hand as she picked up the phone, holding on tightly for support.

"Hello?"

"Can I speak to Siannon O'Niall please? This is Doctor Ellis from the City Hospital."

"Speaking. You've got some news for me?"

"Yes. I'm afraid it's not good…" Siannon listened as the dreaded words dropped like knives into her heart, turning it to stone within her. She clutched Richie's hand in a vice like grip, hard enough to leave marks, as the Doctor's words crushed the last remnants of her futile hope. Richie watched her with concern, almost oblivious to the pain she was inflicting on his hand as her expression tightened and she said all the right words down the phone. At last she finished, the phone falling from almost nerveless fingers. He gently took it off her and placed it on the floor, out of the way, before turning worriedly back to her. She still had hold of his hand although she had let up on the death grip slightly, but was staring into space, at something only she could see. Slowly, carefully she began to speak.

"This is it, Richie. The end. Oh, how I wish it could have been different; but then, don't we all. I'm sure Duncan did after Tessa, and I know Connor did after Heather. I've been here before, too, and it never gets any easier. Never. One day it'll be you and you'll know exactly what I mean. Oh Rich, I miss him already."

"And you will for a long time, I know." She let go of his hand quickly, almost launching herself up from her seat, before striding across the room.

"I need to go out for a bit, feel the wind in my hair. I'll only be in the park, just give me some time, okay?"

"Sure. I need to go over to the dojo for an hour or so anyway, sort some stuff out. I'll be back later."

"Fine."

"Siannon."

"Yeah?"

"Take care." She smiled at him fondly.

"Don't worry, I will."

 

Siannon was back before him and had blitzed the place from top to bottom. She was sprawled on the couch with her feet on the now polished table. He gazed around from his place by the door.

"You didn't have to do this, it would've waited."

"I know that, I just needed something to do. If I'm going to be in a fit state to go to the hospital later, I can't afford to brood right now. So I was distracting myself."

"You must have been trying real hard, I haven't seen this place look so clean in ages. Thanks." Richie treated her to one of his wide grins, lighting his whole face. The sight touched the cold places in Siannon's heart, thawing them ever so slightly. She gave him a crooked half smile in return, finding his smile infectious.

"Take it as payment in kind for being such a tower of strength, you've been a great help, Richie. I know I've said this already, but I really don't know how I'd be doing without you. Every time I need you, you're there. I never expected this, not in a million years." He wandered into the room, putting his helmet on the table by the door, pulling off his jacket, making a point of hanging it up for a change and sat down next to her, taking her hand in his own.

"You need me." He said with simple sincerity. "Do you realise how unusual it is for *anyone* to need me, never mind another immortal. The only time Mac's ever really needed me was after we lost Tessa, and I had too much to deal with myself to be much help to him. This time, not only do you need my help, you want it, and I want to give it." A small smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. "In a way it's like saying thanks to Tessa and Mac for accepting me when I blew into their lives. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be the person I am now..."

"Richard Ryan! I'm sure ye've always had a heart o'gold." Richie frankly stared at her, startled at the unaccustomed sound of the broad Irish brogue.

"Maybe. But I sure as hell didn't have the inclination to use it. And Siannon?"

"Hmm?"

"I love that accent." She glanced at him sheepishly.

"It just rears it's head every now and again, to remind me where I come from. I don't do it on purpose, honest. You must have found that Duncan does the same thing occasionally."

"He's not Irish."

"Brat. You know what I mean." She smiled at him, ruffling up his hair.

"Yeah. And he does. I kinda like it, actually."

"Glad to hear it." She pushed herself up off the couch. "Do you want a coffee?"

"Please." She was rattling round in the kitchen area when the phone rang. Stiffening, she turned to face Richie as he spoke quietly to the person at the other end of the call. Once he put the phone down, he met her eyes, his face grave.

"That was the hospital. It's final. They said if you still want to go ahead with the organ donation that you've got to go in this afternoon." Siannon had slumped against the sink, still looking at him.

"I suppose we'd better go then."

"Are you sure you can do this?"

"I can't *not* do it. I know this is what Laurie wanted if anything happened to him." She sighed, straightening her shoulders. "Knowing that, and going ahead with it is still a completely different kettle of fish. Oh Blessed Danu, I never expected this to hurt so much. He was the love of my life, Richie." She rubbed her hands wearily over her face, scraping back the hair that had fallen into her eyes. "I think we'd better take the car, I'm really not up to managing the bike. You can drive."

 

They held each other's hands, for mutual comfort and support, as they walked through the doors of the hospital for the second time in as many days. Richie was pleased to see it was not the same person at the reception desk as on that fateful night. The young man, about his own age Richie guessed, was helpful and polite.

"We'd like to speak to Dr. Ellis, please. She's expecting us." The receptionist glanced at a list in front of him.

"Miss O'Niall and Mr. Ryan?"

"That's right."

"I'll be right with you." He got out of his chair and called into the office. "Take over for me, Liz, and page Karen Ellis, please. I won't be long." He emerged from behind the desk and smiled briefly at Richie and Siannon. "If you'll just follow me, Dr. Ellis will be with you soon."

 

They were left in a room that was much more comfortable than the one that Richie had found Siannon in two days before. They had barely sat down, when Dr. Ellis entered, accompanied by an unknown man, who she introduced as the area transplant co-ordinator. She then began to explain, in her soft, compassionate voice, exactly what was involved and what was expected of them in the situation. Finally, all the paperwork was sorted out and the man left, leaving them with Dr. Ellis.

"Do you want to see Laurie before we take him to theatre?" She asked. Siannon and Richie glanced at each other with tear filled eyes and simultaneously shook their heads.

"No, thank you. We said our goodbyes two days ago. I'd rather leave it at that." Siannon said. "Doctor..."

"Karen, please."

"..Karen. I'd like to thank you for being so kind over the last two days. You've made a very difficult time much easier to deal with. I think I speak for Richie as well, here." He nodded in agreement.

"It's the least I could do. Losing someone is a very painful experience at the best of times, and in a situation like this it can be so much worse. I'm glad I've been able to help, even a small amount. Goodbye." She shook their hands before leaving them alone in the room once more. Richie immediately pulled her close and held her tight.

"Siannon, I'm so proud of you. There's so few people who could stand there and do what you've just done. That you have, and with such generosity, is unbelievable." She gave him a sad smile.

"Is it really? The way I see it I had no option. Let's get out of here. I need a drink."

"Siannon..."

"Just one, don't worry. You're driving anyway, remember."

 

They found themselves back in Joe's, unsurprisingly. They ensconced themselves at the bar, Richie with orange juice, Siannon with a Guinness. Joe watched them both with concern for a little while before saying anything.

"Any news?" Siannon looked at Richie with a helpless expression in her green eyes, wordlessly begging him to explain. He looked at Joe, shaking his head.

"We lost him. There's nothing anyone can do for Laurie now..."

"Except help with his funeral. Would you, Joe, please?" Joe stared at her drawn face, and felt his heart go out to the ancient but inarguably human woman before him.

"I'd be honoured, Laurie meant a lot to me, too."

 

The service took place in a small chapel near Joe's, one of those occasional gems of inner city architecture that very few people seem to know about. Everything was simple and heartfelt, from the single red rose and the wooden flute on the coffin, to the music that was provided by the folk group that had played at Joe's. The only relatives of Laurie's there were the elderly Canadian couple that he had visited scant months before, though the chapel was almost full. There were brief, but moving, words spoken by Joe, Richie and Laurie's great-aunt, and many a person shed a tear or two. Towards the end of the service, Siannon rose, moving to the front of the chapel. She   
stood beside the coffin, resting a gentle hand on the wooden surface.

"I want to thank you all for coming. I know Laurie never believed quite how well liked he was; I think he knows now, if he's watching." She paused, glancing at her hand on the coffin before continuing, her voice softer, her brogue more apparent. "If you're listening, Acushlah, this is for you..." She softly began to sing, accompanied by the quiet drone of uillean pipes.

"My young love said to me  
'My mother won't mind  
And my father won't slight you  
for your lack of kind.'   
And he laid his hand on me  
And this he did say  
'It will not be long now 'til our Wedding day'.

And he went away from me  
And he moved through the fair  
And fondly I watched him move here and move there.  
And then he went onwards  
Just one star awake  
Like the swan in the evening  
Moves over the lake.

Last night he came to me  
My dead love came in  
So softly he came that his feet made no din  
And he laid his hand on me  
And this he did say  
'It will not be long now 'til our Wedding Day'."

As the last fading notes dropped into the well of rapt silence, there was not a dry eye in the whole chapel, even the attending minister surreptitiously wiped a tear away. Siannon smiled gently through the tears that had started to fall and kissed her fingers before pressing them onto the coffin.

"Goodbye, Laurie. I love you." She went back to her place beside Richie and Joe, completely oblivious to the rest of the service, wrapped in her own shroud of silence.

 

It was not until they had reached Joe's that she actually broke the silence.

"Thank you," she murmured, reaching for Richie's hand. He breathed a sigh of relief, sharing a thankful glance with Joe. He'd been worried when she seemed to withdraw from those around her, concerned that her rigid self control was about to snap. She released Richie's hand, grabbing Joe's instead. "I mean it. I couldn't have done this without either of you." Joe smiled gravely at her.

"It was the least we could do."

"Joe..." She buried her head in his shoulder as he held her gently while she cried. When she straightened, he let his arms fall. She patted his shoulder. "You have very nice shoulders, Joe. Thanks."

"I bet you say that to all the guys."

"Nah, just Richie. I'm going to repair the damage, I'll be back out in a minute." She disappeared to the bathroom, Joe and Richie both watching her retreating back.

"I can't help wondering how she's going to manage now the funeral's over. Sometimes I think that focusing on that is all that's held her together for the last few days, she said that once everything sunk in she'd probably lose it. So far I've seen no sign of that and I don't know whether to be relieved or worried."

"She still staying at your place?"

"For now. Mac said it was okay for her to use the loft if she wanted to and I think she's going to move over there the end of this week. I hope she'll be all right."

"I'm sure she will, especially with us both keeping an eye on her."

"You know, I never expected the thought of Watchers to be so comforting."

"So I'm good for something after all?"

"Apart from free advice, company, music and beer? Yeah, I suppose you are."

 

Slowly things returned to almost normal. Siannon moved into the loft, albeit temporarily; Richie re-opened the dojo and Joe Watched, providing advice whether he was asked or not. Siannon became a near permanent fixture at Joe's; sometimes helping behind the bar, or with the books, or waitressing, but usually there just to listen, and drink, and occasionally play. She turned up at the oddest of hours, always finding in Joe a sympathetic ear and someone with who she could share her love of music and the release it provided. Laurie's ashes stayed unscattered, resting silently in their urn of Irish granite.

 

Richie watched as Siannon weaved her way through the tables. There was a full house at Joe's, so she was helping out. He regarded the solemn, graceful figure with some disquiet. Joe paused in his task of readying drinks for his customers, to pin his young friend with a thoughtful look.

"You're still worried, aren't you?"

"Am I really being *that* obvious?"

"Only to me. Don't forget, observation is my business. Can I ask why?"

"Why what?"

"You're still worried."

"You can ask, but I'm not sure I know. And before you say anything, no I haven't fallen in love with her." Joe grinned, pushing the finished drinks order further down the bar and starting on the next one.

"Seems like we both know each other a little too well, Richie."

"Yeah, maybe." Richie smiled back at Joe, a brief lighting of his eyes and face. "I'm not complaining, you're a useful kind of guy to have around."

"That's something I'm glad to see." Joe said, handing Richie another bottle.

"What?"

"You, smiling. You don't do it enough these days. You weren't meant to be serious for so long, Richie Ryan."

"Thanks, I think."

"Anytime. So, got any ideas?"

"About Siannon? A couple. I just hate to see her like this. The last time I saw her laugh was that night in here, she's just going through the motions, Joe. Existing, not living. You know what scares the shit out of me?" Joe stopped what he was doing and turned all his attention to Richie, this was obviously important to the young man.

"No. What?" Richie ran his finger down the side of the bottle, tracing a pattern in the condensation. He would not look at Joe.

"The next time she meets one of us, in a fight, I'm not sure she'll care enough to survive. Her heart's smashed into pieces, and at the moment she doesn't seem to have the will to start picking them up. I'm starting to get an idea of how Mac felt when I met Kristov, I've just got to stand back and let her fight her own fights. To be honest, Joe, I'm not sure I can do that."

"You want to know what I think?"

"You'll tell me anyway."

"You're lying to yourself."

"I am?"

"Uh-huh. You're in love all right, I just don't think you've realised it yet."

"Joe! She's my friend."

"A lot of good relationships have started from less. I know it's far too soon, but you might end up being just the kick into reality she needs."

"I don't think so."

"Hey, I didn't mean right now. Leave it a year, two and you never know. For now, you can't do any more than you are already. As for the other thing, I suppose we'll just have to wait and see. I'm surprised things have been so quiet, this place is usually like Immortal Central. They probably know MacLeod's not at home."

 

Joe's words seemed eerily prophetic two days later, when Richie heard the first rumours of someone new in town. He did a bit of judicious hunting, but turned up nothing. His anxiety increased daily.

 

One particular evening, Richie was closing up the dojo when Siannon came down to help. He was pleased to see her, for although she was living in the loft he barely knew she was there as she had withdrawn so much from him. In the warm silence they stacked mats and put away weights, saying little to each other but enjoying the company. She sat down on one of the benches against the wall, leaning back against it as she watched Richie move towards her through half closed eyes. He sat down next to her, stretching out his legs.

"I haven't seen much of you recently." He said quietly; not accusing, just stating it as the fact it was.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Not half as sorry as me. You holding up okay?"

"Better than I thought I would."

"I'm glad about that." He gathered his legs under himself and stood up. "I'm going to work out for a bit, do you want to join me?" A slow, lazy smile spread across Siannon's face. Richie was surprised at how good it felt to see her smile again, it had been far too long.

"Don't mind if I do. Give me a sec to get changed and I'll be right down." She dashed off with an enthusiasm she had not displayed since Laurie died. He watched her disappear into the lift, a thoughtful expression on his face.

 

He was well into his warm up stretches when he heard the lift door. He didn't stop, but turned to face her. She was wearing a green cropped T-shirt, leggings and bare feet, an ensemble which looked somewhat incongruous with the beautiful but deadly sword she carried. Richie gave a low whistle of appreciation, both for her and the sword. She turned so it caught the light, this way and that.

"Beautiful, isn't it. It's also totally unique, the only one of it's kind. It was made specially for me by one of us, a man simply known as 'The Smith'. He'd studied metallurgy and swordmaking with the best, over thousands of years. This was almost the last sword he made for an immortal." Siannon seemed to be speaking from a great distance, as if her mind was elsewhere. Richie stilled, watching and listening with rapt attention.

"What happened?"

"His forge was on Holy Ground and he rarely left it. So to get him, it was destroyed with him in it. Then he was taken away before he had a chance to revive and killed. That was a sad day for all of us, as bad as Darius' death. They were friends, you know, had been for years."

"Oh. What happened to whoever took this guy's head?"

"I killed him. I don't like head hunting, but this was necessary. A crime like that can't go unpunished." She shivered slightly, meeting Richie's eyes at last.

"It sounds like you went to the same school of justice as Mac."

"The Clan system in Ireland was very similar to what he grew up with; after all, the Scots originally came from Ireland, so it's not very surprising, I suppose." She shrugged, dismissively. "Let me warm up, and we'll start, hey?"

"Okay."

 

After Siannon had disarmed him for the second time, Richie called for quits. He grabbed his towel to wipe the sweat from his face, grinning at her all the while.

"Shit, you're fast." He was pleased when he managed to get a smile in return.

"Have to be when nearly everybody you meet outweighs and outreaches you. You're not bad, especially considering you're still fairly new at this. I've got one piece of advice though."

"Which is?"

"Don't fight 'down' just because you're facing a woman. You've got the ability and the instincts, so use them. You never know how experienced your opponent is going to be and if you pull your strokes, you might not find out until your head has left your shoulders. Sure, you can stay on the defensive if you must, but never underestimate anyone you're facing, you could be in for a nasty surprise   
if you do."

"I've only ever faced one woman. I couldn't kill her."

"Who was it?"

"Annie Devlin. It was ages ago."

"Oh yes, Annie, my wonderful compatriot. She's a bit of a strange one, far too politically motivated for my liking. By the way, just how long ago is *ages*?"

"Nearly two years ago."

"Nearly two years...just after Tessa died?"

"Mm-hmm."

"You were newly immortal?"

"Yeah."

"Shit. No wonder you couldn't kill her." She shook her head in disbelief. "Not the best time to be facing someone like Annie. Look, why don't you come on up, use the shower, have a coffee, that sort of thing?"

"Sounds good. I'll just get my stuff." By the time Richie wandered into the loft, Siannon had showered and changed into jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt. She was busying herself in the kitchen.

"Bathroom's all yours, Richie. Want to stay for tea?" She asked.

"Since when have I refused free food?" was the laughing rejoinder as he made his way to the bathroom.

 

The smell hit him as soon as he opened the bathroom door.

"That smells gorgeous. What is it?"

"Stir fried veg and Chinese style rice, aided and abetted by my secret weapon." She waved a bottle at him. "Worcestershire sauce. One of the best inventions of the culinary world. Grab yourself a beer, this won't be a minute." Richie poked around in the fridge for a bit.

"Have you got any ordinary beer in there? All I can see is Guinness."

"It's in there somewhere. Try the top shelf at the back, and get me a can out while you're in there." He rummaged for a bit longer before emerging with a bottle for himself and a can of Guinness for Siannon. She dished out the food as Richie grabbed a couple of glasses, before they sat down to eat.

 

As the evening drew on, Richie noticed that Siannon was drinking a hell of a lot more than she used to, and the worry that had been pushed to the back of his mind resurfaced and sat there gibbering at him. When she wandered over to the fridge for another can, he couldn't *not* say anything.

"Are you sure that's a really good idea?" She whirled around as if he had struck her to pin him with a gaze that looked as flat and emotionless as a snakes.

"What, this? It's the only way I can get to sleep." She opened the can and took a long pull, not bothering any more with the glass. Richie's eyes mirrored his concern.

"Still?"

"Yes. And why is it so important to you, Richie? Did someone make you my keeper while I wasn't looking?" She started to pace, not looking at him.

"Siannon, I'm your friend. I've just been worried about you."

"Well don't. I can look after myself; I've been looking after myself for over fifteen hundred fucking years, don't you think that qualifies me, hey?"

"Yeah, but..." Richie was getting decidedly uneasy; he'd never seen Siannon angry before and he certainly didn't like having that anger aimed at himself. She continued to pace, her eyes dead no longer, but snapping with the rage that she was barely keeping in check.

"Don't think I haven't noticed you and Joe walking on eggshells around me. I have, I'm not completely stupid, you know. I can see the pity in your eyes and you know what? I don't want it. I don't want anyone's fucking pity. The only thing I do want I can't have, and that's Laurie, back here with me. And here I am cursed with an ever so long lifespan and a memory like a fucking elephants. Sometimes I wish I could forget, and I can't. I *can't*, and oh God, I've tried, I really have. Nothing works any more, so I've just got to live with it. So don't try to tell me what's fucking best for me, You don't know, no-one does." Realistically Richie knew he shouldn't say anything, but he was young, and blessed with a temper to match his hair, plus he was not happy with what he perceived as the injustice of the situation.

"For God's sake, Siannon, we've only been trying to help!" He almost leapt off the couch to face her down, his own anger steadily rising. The rational part of his brain tried to convince him that this was not a good idea, that Siannon was obviously too far gone in her own fury to listen to him and that this was probably the very situation she had warned him about; he was not listening to his rationality, but to his passion.

"I don't need your help. I don't *want* your help. Now leave me alone and get the fuck out of here!"

"No!" Richie was livid, and it showed in every line of his stance. "I know you don't want our help, but you've got it anyway. You know why we were worried? There's an immortal in town, and we didn't know if you'd be ready to meet him. We're your friends, Siannon, we didn't want to lose you too!" He watched as she stopped mid-step, and slowly turned to face him. Her sword had appeared in her hand, and Richie almost panicked. Once she faced him, only a few feet away, he decided that the fire of her previous anger was infinitely preferable to the icy wrath she was now displaying.

"So you didn't think I was capable of fighting?" She asked coldly. Richie swallowed, his anger had drained away to be replaced by fear. Fear of her, and for her.

"That's not what I said, Siannon."

"That's what it sounded like. Now pick up your sword." Richie stared at her, she couldn't mean this...or could she? She was obviously no longer herself, so he tried out something he'd heard MacLeod say countless times, not really expecting it to have any effect as it never seemed to.

"Siannon, you don't have to do this." She stood there and gave him a grin that was almost cold enough to freeze the blood inside his body.

"You're right, I don't." She said, and almost casually ran him through. "Tell Joe I've gone to look for our unknown friend." She turned on her heel, picking her coat up on the way out, leaving Richie in a sprawled and bleeding heap on the floor. His last thought as he faded out of consciousness was a plaintive 'Why me?'

 

Siannon looked carefully around her when she emerged from the building, and spotted her Watcher without too much difficulty. He noticed her coming toward him and began to run, but not soon enough. She soon caught him and held him in a necklock, and at swordpoint.

"If you want to walk away from here, you're going to tell me who the new guy in town is, and where I can find him, okay?" The captive man nodded slightly and she released her hold on him enough so he could speak.

"It's Robert de Souza. I don't know where he's staying, but he's been seen in the 'Dark Angel' downtown. That's all I know, honest, though he has been asking about you in various places." She let the terrified man go.

"So dear Robert is after me again. This time I think I'll let him catch me." She wandered over to her car and jumped in, pulling off with a screech of tyres.

 

Richie came back to himself with a stifled gasp. The floor was extremely hard and uncomfortable. He sat up gingerly, then scrambled to his feet. It was obvious the room was empty and he noticed her coat had gone.

"Shit!" Pausing to rip off his ruined T-shirt, he rummaged in his bag for his spare shirt, pulling it on and buttoning it up in no time. Grabbing his jacket he near flew out of the room and down the back stairs to where he had left his bike. There was only one place he would find any answers now, and that was Joe's.

 

Joe looked up in consternation as Richie burst through the doors like a whirlwind. He took in with one glance the obvious worry in his face and the unnoticed blood stains on his jeans.

"We'll be in the office, Mike," he called out.

"Right, Joe." Joe guided Richie through the door and sat him in one of the chairs.

"What happened Richie, did you meet up with de Souza?"

"Who? No." He looked at his jeans. "Oh. No, that was Siannon."

"Siannon?!"

"Yeah. We argued, both said some stuff we probably shouldn't have, and then she went totally ballistic. I think she's gone after this guy, de Souza, you said?"

"Yeah, Robert de Souza. He's got quite a history with Siannon and he's actually been looking for her, but with her laying low he's turned up nothing so far." Just then there was a commotion outside the door and a dishevelled young man burst in.

"She's gone after de Souza," he blurted out, only then noticing Richie.

"How did you get here before me?" He asked. Richie looked at Joe, mouthing 'Siannon's Watcher?' at him and receiving a nod in return.

"Short cut, can't do it if you haven't got a bike."

"Oh." Joe frowned at the newcomer.

"Just tell me one thing, Paul, how did she find out?" The young man shuffled nervously and looked at his feet.

"She..uh.. held me up at swordpoint. I told her about the 'Dark Angel' but I don't know anything else. I came here, cause you said you wanted to know if she left and she'd swiped my mobile."

"Fair enough. Now sit down, tell me the whole thing." He sat, just as Richie stood up again.

"Would that be the 'Dark Angel' downtown?" He asked, oh so casually.

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Thanks Paul," Richie said and dived out the door before Joe could say anything.

"Damn!" was all Joe could manage as the door slammed behind Richie.

 

Richie screamed into the small car park at the side of the Dark Angel. Taking the time to pull off his helmet, he wandered in. The place was not as full as he'd expected, which he hoped would work in his favour. He sidled up to the bar, smiling politely at the blue-haired man serving the drinks. Richie made a point of *not* looking at the various studs and rings that adorned his face and ears, and focused on a spot on the bar in front of him, glancing upwards to catch the man's eyes.

"Hi, I was wondering if you could help me?"

"Might be able to, it depends."

"On what?"

"What you want to know."

"Just this. Was there a woman in here not long back? Tall, good looking, long dark hair in a braid, green eyes, leather coat?"

"Why?"

"I think she was meeting a guy, or arranging to meet him and to be quite honest, she's not really in her right mind at the moment and I'm worried about her."

"Yeah, she was here. Looked a bit... wild. She met a guy all right, fella who hangs around here a fair bit. I don't like him, but his money's good." Richie breathed an inward sigh of relief.

"Did they mention if they were going anywhere else?"

"Dunno, might've." Richie silently cursed the surly bartender.

"Please, this is important. She doesn't know what she's doing." The man behind the bar leaned across it to peer at Richie.

"You related or something?" He asked.

"Yeah, we are," said Richie, defiantly. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Nah, not me. I've got a sister too. They said something about a warehouse dockside. Can't tell you more'n that I'm afraid, if they said anything else I didn't hear it. Hope that helps."

"It does, thanks. How'd you know she's my sister?" Richie was curious.

"It's like this. You're not doing the whole jealous guy bit, you're scared for her, worried. That says 'brother' to me, see. I'd feel the same if my sister went off with some guy I knew was bad news. Am I right?"

"Yeah, sort of. Thanks again, I gotta go." He ran out of the place with a wave for his unlikely saviour. At least he had a chance of finding them now.

 

The warehouse was lit dimly, but there was just enough light to see each other. They circled warily, swords drawn.

"Well, Aislin, or should I say *Siannon*. I see you finally decided to stop cowering like the weakling you are and resolve this little disagreement once and for all." He drawled, taunting her, his handsome features drawn into a sneer of contempt. She smiled grimly at him.

"Don't mock what you can't understand, Robert." She pulled off her coat, throwing it to one side. He did the same. Unencumbered they continued to stalk each other.

"Shall we?" He invited.

"That's what I'm here for," Siannon retorted. At some unspoken signal, battle was joined.

 

De Souza had the advantages of height and weight over Siannon, she had her speed. Consequently they were fairly well matched. He had no qualms about using every trick in his book to win, it did not matter that Siannon was a woman, she was his opponent, his adversary and as such could expect no mercy from him. Siannon watched him closely, gauging his strengths and his weaknesses, observing carefully   
for any gaps that would give her the advantage. All traces of the burning anger that had driven her to this point were gone, to be replaced by a cold, controlled fury. She had become nothing more than an immortal trying to survive the Game.

 

After a while they both began to tire, Siannon losing the edge off her speed, and de Souza's sword work becoming more sloppy. They started to get more, and deeper, cuts in past each other's guards. She started to lose her focus as her mind began to wander and her thoughts began to overwhelms her.

~ Do I really want to win this? Do I want to carry on for another decade or century or millennia? There's never going to be any more than this, the killing never ends. And when I do find some respite, it's over in the blink of an eye. Oh Laurie, I miss you so much. I wish there was a way to be with you, still. ~ Her body continued to block and parry without conscious control, but lacked the finesse of her focused skill. De Souza took advantage of her distraction and began to inflict some serious damage on her. Neither of them noticed the sound of a motorbike screeching to a halt outside.

 

Richie had an idea of where they would be. There was an area of disused warehouses down by the docks that had always been popular with immortals for their challenges as it was quiet and usually deserted. He pulled onto the dockside road with a squeal of tyres and sped between the warehouses, watching carefully for any signs of Siannon. He spotted her car fairly quickly, pulling up outside the place in a shower of gravel, hoping he had not arrived too late.

 

Leaving his helmet with the bike, Richie entered the warehouse as quietly as possible. He knew they would both be warned of his presence by the buzz, but until then he wanted to keep his presence a secret. In the distance he could hear the clang of metal against metal, the characteristic ring of swords clashing against each other. He made his way tentatively further into the complex, drawing his sword as he went: alert, watchful. He felt them before he saw them, but the clash of swords did not diminish in any way. It appeared they had not registered his presence. Slowly, carefully, he drew closer to the sounds of combat. When he finally rounded the last corner and caught sight of the two combatants, he had to restrain himself from ignoring everything he had been taught and rushing in with no thought for the consequences. Richie managed it, but it was incredibly difficult; and he watched, his heart in his mouth, as the two duelling immortals steadily cut each other into pieces.

 

De Souza finally managed to gain the advantage, and had beaten Siannon to her knees. All the cold fire and fury had left her, and she felt bereft and empty. Acutely aware of the cold and damp seeping up through her bones, she gave up. There was nothing left to fight for so she let the grip on her sword loosen. He gave her a twisted, evil looking smirk, raising his sword for the killing blow.

"It ends here," he said. He had barely begun to move when a red-headed tornado knocked him completely off balance, sending the intended killing blow wide. Siannon seemed to snap back into reality.

"Richie! Stay out of this." She spat out as she clambered to her feet, tightening her lax hold on her sword. "It has nothing to do with you." Richie glared at her defiantly, his own sword drawn and ready.

"It does if you're just going to give up." He turned to face de Souza, almost ablaze with his own anger. "I'm not going to let you do this." De Souza gave him a cold and twisted smile, that did not touch the rest of his face at all.

"Oh, but I'm afraid you will. After all you aren't going to have much option to do otherwise shortly," he said and produced a gun that he had concealed. "You can't interfere if you're dead." With that he fired off two shots in quick succession, laughing as Richie crumpled to the ground. "Well that takes care of him for now." He replaced the gun, turning back to face Siannon. "Shall we continue, my dear?" She gave herself a mental shake, trying to throw off the shock that de Souza's callousness had produced in her.

"You bastard." She growled. He grinned at her, with disgusting cheerfulness.

"How charming. I think I'll take his head after I've taken yours, then at least you won't be lonely." Siannon raised her sword.

"Over my dead body." She ground out through clenched teeth. De Souza laughed.

"That, my dear, is the whole point." He raised his sword to parry as she sprang at him with renewed ferocity, making every lightning quick cut and slash count for something. De Souza began to look worried.

 

Siannon was slicing into him with an almost clinical precision, her heart fully in the fight now that the stakes were that much higher. It was not just her own life she was fighting for, but Richie's too. She watched him like a hawk, ready to take advantage of the tiniest slip; waiting, waiting. There! If she could just... She let him cut a deep gash into her, and before he could recover...

 

The first thing Richie was aware of was that the ground was cold, wet and hard. The second was that he could hear the renewed clash of swords, even though his eyes did not appear to be working yet. He tried to move, and couldn't. He listened carefully, only to hear a muted gasp of pain followed by the double thuds of a body and head hitting the ground separately. He groaned, struggling to at least curl up before the quickening started in an effort to protect himself. He almost missed the whisper in that instant before the pyrotechnics started. Just one word.

"Richie?" Siannon's voice. Relief flooded through him at the same time as everything went wild. He flung his arms over his head to keep the flying glass from cutting into his face, deciding that being this close to a quickening, that was not one he'd taken, was an experience he could well have done without at this particular juncture. At last the screams ended and everything stopped flying around. Richie carefully removed his arms from over his head and gingerly opened his eyes. Everything seemed to be working properly, though his hands were covered in nicks and cuts. He scrambled into a sitting position and looked around for Siannon.

 

She was only a short distance from him, on her knees once more and leaning heavily on her sword, the last few tendrils of blue fire curling up the blade. Having no confidence in his ability to walk just yet, Richie crawled over to her and noticed she was crying. Carefully, he placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up into his face through her floods of tears.

"I nearly lost you too. I couldn't have stood that, not so soon after Laurie." She choked out, her voice almost unrecognisable.

"Well you didn't. I'm still here, thanks to you."

"And I'm still here thanks to you. Oh Richie." With that she flung her arms around him and sobbed. He gathered her close to hold her as she cried out her anger and grief.

 

They paused by Siannon's car on the way out, and she placed her hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

"I want to apologise for earlier," she said quietly.

"Apologise?"

"For stabbing you in the gut."

"Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about that. Tell me something, Siannon; when you said you'd 'lose it' was this it? Or do I have another crisis to look forward to?" She let out a sigh, leaning against the door of the car as she raised her tired eyes to his face.

"No, this was it. You'll probably find me in floods of tears from time to time, but I won't try to kill you again. Laurie's gone and now I've got to learn to live with that instead of pushing it away from me."

"I'm glad you're not going to kill me again, I don't like nasty surprises."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Am I forgiven?" Richie grinned at her, pulling her into a hug,

"Of course you're forgiven, just don't make a habit of it. And I'm sorry too, I just lost my temper, and I shouldn't have."

"So we're quits?"

"Yeah. Friends?"

"As long as I live. Thanks Richie." She leaned up to kiss him, just a gentle brush of her lips over his, before she got into the car. Richie watched her leave with a warm glow in his heart.

Friends. Forever. Or as near to forever as could be.

 

Epilogue

Siannon sat cross-legged on the ground with the granite urn in front of her. The standing stone cast it's ancient shadow over them and she could feel the peace in her heart. She had done the right thing in coming to this place.

"You would have liked it here, Laurie. Even the wind sings. Since you never got here in this life, this is where you are going to rest. The Old Ones will bear you company on your way and I know you could not be in a better place." She stood slowly, picking up the urn and approached the base of the stone.

"Oh Ancient ones of earth and air and water, I ask you to guide the soul of this man on its continuing journey. May you take the last of his earthly body and create things of beauty, even as he did in this life. This do I humbly beg of you." Gently she upended the urn and let the ashes sift out, floating gently to the ground. "May the Old Ones bless you and keep you, Laurie. May the wind be at your back, the sun on your face and your path clear before you." Once the urn was empty she turned to look at the cabin and the familiar red-headed figure waiting for her. She took a deep breath, glancing once more at the standing stone before resolutely turning her back on it and walking away. She lifted her head, letting the breeze play with her unbound hair.

"Okay Richie, I've finished here. I think it's time we left."

"As long as you're ready?"

"I'm ready. Honest." Richie gave her a gentle smile, throwing a companionable arm round her shoulders.

"Then we'd better go." Together, the two friends made their way down to the boat that would take them back into their lives.

 

~End~

 

Full marks to anyone who noticed that the words of 'She Moved Through the Fair' had been changed slightly to fit the story.


End file.
